


A Private Concert

by eyesfixedonthesun22



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Blushing, Cell Block Tango, Chicago (Movie), Dancing and Singing, Fluff, House Cleaning, Second-Hand Embarrassment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-30 22:54:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21436036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyesfixedonthesun22/pseuds/eyesfixedonthesun22
Summary: Domestic life on your days off can get a little out of hand.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	A Private Concert

**Author's Note:**

> This is for a drabble request I posted A WHILE ago. Thanks @jhangelface0523 for waiting so long! I broke it up into two drabbles from the four prompts she gave me. (yes that means there is a second one coming *winky face*)
> 
> Request Message:If you posting that Drabble list means you’re gonna take requests, then 1. I love you for that and 2. I went through the list and found a few things I really liked but I don’t know if you can do all of them 🙈 So you can choose which ones but I love Fluff 4,18 and 22 and Angst 17 all with Bucky 🥰💕

There’s a pulsing blood rush as you dip and swoop, slide across the floor, and then pivot your hips in what you intend to be a perfectly choreographed accent. Your hair is pulled up out of your face but from the private concert going on in your living room, a few rebellious strands have escaped. Your certain you’ll be able to skip your workout for the day; the subtle heat in your cheeks indicating that between scrubbing away at the apartment and dancing like a maniac you’ve gotten your heart pumping sufficiently. 

It felt good to be well on your way to a clean living space. You felt good. 

You run the dusting cloth gently over the screen of your television while the nearby speaker is blaring the source of your concert material; “Cell Block Tango”. 

_ He had it coming _

_ He had it coming _

_ He only had himself to blame _

_ If you'd a been there, if you'd a seen it _

_ I betcha you would've done the same _

_ Pop! Six! Squish! Uh uh! Cicero! Lipschitz! _

_ Pop! Six! Squish! Uh uh! Cicero! Lipschitz! _

You had gotten on your hands and knees to get every nook and cranny. You truly wondered how just two people could accumulate such a mess; though Bucky assured you that the apartment you shared was  never _ really_ dirty. 

You begged to differ. 

It wasn’t often that you had spare time to really get in a good clean, and you weren’t the type to hire someone. Besides, the idea of a stranger in your apartment cleaning had set Bucky on edge. So for now it was Chicago, singing at the top of your lungs, dancing in ways no one ever saw, and the skin of your hands smelling faintly of cleaning products. But hey, your apartment would sparkle. 

The soundtrack was coming up on your favorite number, Roxie. You dip shoulders back and forth along to the baseline while strutting seductively over to the next surface that needs dusting, the can of dusting polish as your microphone. 

_ The name on everybody's lips _

_ Is gonna be... Roxie _

_ The lady rakin' in the chips _

_ Is gonna be... Roxie _

You fail to hear the gentle thumps of his combat boots, or the turn of the handle, and then he’s there. Whatever flush you had to your face before is tenfold now!

“Oh don’t stop the concert on my account!” he says with a smirk, “Roxie…” 

“Holy crap, babe. As if scaring me half to death wasn’t enough now I have you teasing me too!” 

You try to sound convincing, you really do, but the warm enveloping embrace that brings you into the crook of Bucky’s neck has your resolve crumbling. 

“ **I think it’s adorable how easily you blush** .”

You playfully peck him once on the cheek and again on his lips. Now that he was home you were ready to be done cleaning. Quickly, you gathered the cleaning supplies to put away. Your head is buried in the cabinet when something collides into you nearly knocking your feet straight out from under you.

Bucky, now in just his sweatpants and socks, has slid across the polished floors directly into your backside while singing at the top of his lungs. He’d selected the song to repeat and the opening smooth notes began again. 

_ The name on everybody's lips _

_ Is gonna be... Roxie _

It’s quite the site to see your hulking supersolider of a boyfriend dance like a seductive temptress while belting out the jazzy lyrics. You’re nearly in tears by the second verse. 

_ The lady rakin' in the chips _

_ Is gonna be... Roxie _

“ **You’re adorable, and I can’t believe I have you all to myself** .”

“Well who else would you do duets with, doll?!”

  
  



End file.
